Home
by Onthnis
Summary: How can you feel so lost in a room filled with people? Nick leaves Las Vegas to help him recover from the events after Grave Danger.
1. Chapter 1

Title: **Home  
**Author: Onthnis

Rating: PG  
Pairing: Grissom/Nick/Warrick friendship  
Disclaimers: I just wanted to play with "the boys". I didn't hurt anybody and I will put them back when I am done.  
Spoilers: Geez...Grave Danger for sure..let's just say season 1-5 and call it even, huh?

Summary: How can you feel so lost in a room filled with people? Nick leaves Las Vegas to help him recover from the events after Grave Danger.  
Author's notes: So, there I was, minding my own business listening to music and catching up on my reading. Suddenly, this song played by Michael Buble (that I believe he also wrote) called "Home". I had never heard the song before but it just grabbed me. For some reason it made me think of Nick. Out of nowhere this vicious plot bunny bit me right in the ankle. Once it had me it wouldn't let me go either. Trying to ignore it, I turned off my computer and went about my daily activities. Later, I sat back down at the computer and damn if that bunny didn't start munching at my ankle again. I've written in other fandoms before but never CSI. So...this is what happens when plot bunnies attack.

"Housekeeping" a female voice lilted through the closed door. Soon after a quick knock could be heard as the busy maid rushed through her hectic day. Another knock followed and the click of the lock of the hotel room door could be heard as the woman once again announced herself. "Housekeeping."

Letting out a quick sigh of frustration and embarrassment the tired man rubbed his eyes as he rose from the bed and mumbled out what most likely was the words "Can you come back later." The maid lowered her gaze and gave a half smile with a muttered apology as she nodded her acknowledgment and headed back to her cleaning cart, the door shutting quickly behind her.

The dark haired man quickly grabbed a t-shirt from the chair next to the bed and wandered into the bathroom. A few minutes later he found himself back in the room and looking out the window of his lonely hotel room. It was a beautiful day outside and the view was breathtaking. The scene outside his window a perfect picture postcard.

Waves from the Pacific Ocean beat down on the cliffs below. Surfers were jockeying for position on the near perfect wave breaks and joggers were skirting the coastline as they too drank in the sweet salty summer air.

Running a hand through his hair, Nick Stokes leaned into the window and rested his head on the cool glass. The coolness of the glass only served to remind him more of the emptiness that pitted itself square in his gut. The emptiness was not of hunger but an intense and sharp pang of loneliness he could never remember feeling in his life.

Snorting a quick chuckle at the realization that even if he could be in a football stadium filled with people nothing could budge the hopeless feeling gnawing painfully at him.

Shaking himself out his sad reverie the dark haired man wandered back into the bathroom to shower. Hoping the heat and steam of the shower would somehow bring him back to the old Nick he missed. The Nick that hadn't been damaged by the turmoil and events that somehow seemed to follow the young man like a haunting shadow.

Somehow, the pelting water droplets managed to, if not for a few minutes at least, draw him out of his depressive mood and quickly he found himself dried and dressed and somewhat ready for the day ahead. Whatever that was supposed to be.

It had been three weeks since the dark haired man had somehow found his way to this ocean filled view. It was actually all quite by accident. Somehow he had managed to get on the I-15 and soon found himself heading southbound. Before he knew it he was skirting the San Bernardino foothills in California. Within hours, signs were welcoming him into the San Diego County City limits. Stopping himself before the I-15 merged into the I-5 taking him into Tijuana, Mexico, Nick managed to somehow find himself in a small hotel room in La Jolla.

Everyday, for the last three weeks, he would wander the quaint communities making up the vast city and revel in the thought that there was not a soul in the world that had any clue as to the location of Nick Stokes. At times, it was almost like a giddy alcoholic feeling knowing that he was truly on his own. It was such a feeling of freedom. Other times, the pain of having ripped himself away from not only his blood family but his surrogate Las Vegas family made up of such an eclectic and unlikely group of people gnawed at his guts like a blender powered up on a puree setting. But, this was something he needed and had to do.

His life. The life he was leading in Las Vegas was stifling. In all reality, it was physically suffocating the young man and his only recourse was to beat it and not look back. But, could he really do that? After all, this was Nicholas Stokes we were talking about. Mr. Dependable. Mr. Reliable. As Nick drove through the busy freeways taking in the beautiful summer day, he laughed to himself. Am I a man or am I a Chevy? When had his life become so predictable? When had he become this man? Or had he always been this way and just never really thought to care about it much. Whatever it was, it didn't matter now. He was in a whole new city. Nobody knew him. He could be anyone he wanted. But, did he have the guts to change? Or was he happy being the same old Nick everyone had come to look to and rely on for so long.

Raking a quick hand through his short hair he snapped himself away from the burden of thoughts plaguing his brain. The Texan smiled to himself "Stokes, you need to stop over analyzing and enjoy." With that statement, he guided his SUV into the cramped parking space in the booming mall and decided to just lose himself in the mass of human bodies.

Gil Grissom strode purposefully across the lab, an ever-present scowl on his normally passive face

"Greg, where is the ballistics report from the Matheson case?"

The ex-lab tech looked up quickly, not having heard the silent entrance of his cranky supervisor. Before he could he could even manage a sentence, the supervisor chimed in "I don't want excuses, just the report. Leave it on my desk before you leave."

Before the young man had a chance to answer or even defend himself. Hurricane Grissom was gone.

Letting out a frustrated sigh and looking to make sure the older man was really gone and not just lurking in a shadow readying himself for Grissom versus Sanders (the rematch). Greg quickly found the offending report and deftly maneuvered himself into the doorway of Grissom's office, ever on the lookout for the foul tempered supervisor.

The last few weeks in the lab had been the most intense the blonde haired man had ever endured. Of course the entire office had been still reeling from the abduction and subsequent recovery of Nick Stokes only a month and a half prior. But, that had only been the beginning of the drama that had somehow unfolded in the middle of the hectic lab. Greg still wasn't sure what had happened. He only knew that Grissom was on some kind of one-man terror and one of his close friends had vanished without a trace.

That very fact seemed so astonishing considering they were a crime lab. Certainly they should have the wherewithal and ability to find one man. It didn't seem an impossible task. But, here they were, three weeks to the day. No sign of Nick at all. Even more astonishing. Not even a trace of where he may have gone.

Greg placed the report into his supervisors in-bin and managed to sneak out of the office and slink into his waiting car. Would life ever be the same again? Would they ever find Nick again? Gritting his teeth in spite of the overwhelming emotions threatening to take over, he put his car in reverse and maneuvered his car out of the lab parking lot.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: OK...First of all, I would like to say...Writing fanficiton (after not having written in a LONG time) is like riding a bike...my pant leg keeps getting stuck in the chain..So, to those of you who stick with me-you got huevos. But, you gotta figure, eventually it's got to get better...or maybe you just need to get drunker...Either way, it should be fun for all of us. Hey, I ain't Hemingway! I'm just a girl with a computer, a Venti Caramel Frappucino, and a really wild imagination. In other words, if you like it...you like it...if you hate it...well, you probably have taste...And, that's not bad either. In any event, I hope you enjoy it more than you hate it...**

The throngs of busy power shoppers wove around the busy outdoor mall. It was a hot day but this didn't deter the hopeful shoppers. Nick Stokes had only needed to stop quickly to pick up a few essentials. This had appeared to not be his wisest choice.

Don't these people work? He thought to himself. Why in God's name were there so many people able to shop carefree? With seemingly no place to be but apparently no end to their means of purchase power. It was almost awe inspiring if it weren't for the woman behind him with a baby stroller poised to do some serious damage to his calf and ankles if he didn't take evasive steps out of her way.

Moving quickly to avoid any "accident", Nick found an abandoned bench and took in the utter madness and chaos of this suburban mall.

This was not a good idea. Figuring he could get what he needed later, the Texan weaved his way back through the crazy crowds and back to the sanctity and safety of his SUV.

With no place to go and nothing keeping him here at this zoo that he was parked in, Nick backed out of the parking spot and began another aimless drive through more unknown territory.

He wasn't on the road long before somehow managing to end up on the freeway. He could feel his breath somehow catch though as he found himself on the I-15 heading northbound. What was it about this busy stretch of asphalt that made him cringe? It was miles from where he had started his journey. Yet, the dark haired man could feel the churning of the acids in his stomach bubble over and quickly he managed to make a quick escape on the nearest exit.

This was insane, he thought. I am a grown man and I am afraid of a road. Yes, the road could lead him back home to the comfort and predictability of everything and everyone he had come to love. But, somehow and somewhere he felt that same person didn't exist any longer.

Not long after the hasty exit Nick found a fairly empty parking lot. It appeared to be a small airport. Small high winged and low winged aircraft mingled in between small business jets and helicopters. He slid his car easily into the parking space and took in the constant air traffic and perennial buzz as pilots, students and passengers continued their day. The smell of jet fuel strangely settled into his nose and he found himself pleasantly enjoying the obnoxious fumes.

The ebb and flow of people and planes lulled Nick back into another wistful reverie. Somehow life didn't seem as complicated as he watched a flight instructor and his young student complete a walk around of some small high winged plane. Even as the student checked the gas tanks and methodically went through his checklist he seemed more at ease and in his own skin than Nick could ever remember feeling.

He supposed there was a time he felt that carefree spirit. The feeling he was in control of his own life. His own destiny. Somehow, lately, that just seemed to have fallen by the wayside. It was time to make a change. He had control now. He had shown everyone that he was a survivor. That proof had come at a cost. Nick wasn't ready or willing to continue on this path. It was time to step up and take a chance on life. His own life.

Could he really take back his life in a town that had a basically robbed him not only of his spirit but almost his life? The new Nick needed to venture forward. Though it hurt to think about it. He needed to do it somewhere else or Las Vegas would kill him for sure.

But wouldn't that be awfully selfish? He had friends and relationships developed there. Some of his friendships had deepened to the point of becoming family. Warrick and Catherine. They knew him almost better than any of his siblings. The two of them had been there to see him through some of his highest highs but had more importantly stood by him and guided him through his lowest lows.

Then there was Grissom. The man was an enigma. A study in contrasts. You never really knew from day to day which Gil Grissom you were going to get. He wouldn't call him moody. Definitely, not textbook Grissom. But, there was something about him that was not clearly defined. Sometimes he felt, as close to Grissom as he felt to his, he hated to say, father. He looked to Grissom as a somewhat father figure. It was more than that, though.

Sometimes it appeared like Grissom enjoyed that role. Like he almost reveled in the duty of being a mentor, leader and advisor. Other times it seemed like all the attention and the worship just about pissed the man off. Grissom, too, was there for him, even when the going got too tough to handle.

Closing his eyes as haunting memories surged through his confused brain. Nick ran a tired hand across his face. Opening them once again to see the student pilot pop open the window of the small airplane. Within seconds, he heard the young voice yell out "Clear Prop!" and the engine struggled momentarily to start as the propeller turned and finally started. Watching intently as the plane moved a fraction and then came to a stop and then moved once again. The dark haired man watched the Cessna taxi out of sight. Within a few minutes the plane had taken to the air. Out of site and off to some new adventure. An adventure he suddenly knew he needed to start for himself.

It suddenly all seemed so easy. Surely his friends would forgive him this need. Even if they didn't understand now. Eventually time and very busy lives would erase their memories. Certainly the burden of worrying about their wayward friend would be lifted. So much of their anxieties eased and soon he would just be an anecdote they told their friends.

This was becoming easier to believe as his mind raced to his new life that opened up strangely in an airport parking lot. It was time to jump right in to the cold water, head first, a full swan dive. There would be no more dipping his toes into the safety zone he was so well known for. This time he was taking action and becoming the man he knew he could be again, even if it did mean leaving behind the friend's that had helped shape him before.

They would understand…eventually.

"Dammit! Stupid printer is jammed again. And, what the hell does PC Load Letter mean?" Slapping the printer in disgust Warrick Brown growled at the offending machinery.

"You just need to lift this tray." Sara replied as she lifted the cover and skillfully showed her co-worker what he could have given a damn about anyway. Pressing some magic buttons. The report printed and Sara smiled sickeningly sweet at the glower Warrick was currently fixing her with.

He was already pissed off. Her sunny disposition and willingness to "help him" was pissing him off more. What right did she have to be happy? Did she not have eyes? Could she not see the current mood and attitude ever present in this hellhole they seemed to be working in.

Nothing seemed right these days. He felt like he was in the fast lane in second gear. Wasn't it her duty to feel the same way? He was her friend too. Shouldn't she feel the absence of Nick along with the others?

Nick's original "disappearance" had an almost devastating effect on the lab. His kidnapping had left raw wounds on the once cohesive office. His subsequent rescue and recovery helped put a band-aid to the near tragic event only to have the ragged wound ripped wide open once again when the Texan disappeared without a trace weeks later.

Warrick was beside himself with the need to locate the only person he thought of in this world as a brother and best friend. Nick's vanishing act had tore away a part of himself he never thought he would find again.

Seeing the many moods reflecting in his green eyes Sara dared to ask, "What is your problem? It's just a printer."

"Is that what you think this is about, Sara? A printer?" Pausing a moment he stared back at the woman in front of him "I could ask you the same question."

"This is about Nick, isn't it? Why? Why after three weeks?"

Warrick's jaw nearly dropped to the ground. Her words almost like daggers. This was a friend?

"What do you mean is this about Nick? What else could it be about? Have you not noticed? Have you not been paying attention? This is all about Nick and I can't believe this new attitude of yours?"

Sara's mind reeled as she listened to Warrick seemingly belittle her.

"I'm not saying I'm not worried about him Warrick. I'm just saying it's been three weeks. He left here on his own accord. Don't get me wrong. I miss him too but he's gone. And, Warrick, he doesn't want to be found. I'm just being realistic and I'm sure nobody else wants to think it but if he really wanted to, he would have called."

It was taking all the calm and control he could muster. To think he had worked side by side with this woman for almost five years. This was all the loyalty she could show. This was what Nick meant to her.

Sara, sensing the animosity quickly developing, smartly changed gears as she continued, "Listen, Warrick, I know you two are close. I'm sorry if you can't or won't agree with me on this. I want him back too. But, it was Nick's choice to leave."

Warrick had listened to all he could take and finally blew. "Don't you think I know he left on his own? That he chose to disappear without saying a word to anyone, including me. Do you know how much it hurts to know that he is out there and whether or not he realizes it, that he needs his friend's, his true friends with him? But, I happen to believe, after all he's been through, he has that right. And even though I miss him like hell. It was his decision and his alone. Don't think for a minute, though, that I won't move heaven and earth to find him. Because it is important that he be found. Just like when he was underground. It's no different. He needs to be rescued from himself!"

Before the final words were out and before Warrick had the chance to say something more, that he knew he would regret, he stormed out of the lab leaving Sara and several dumbfounded lab techs stunned.

Bounding into the locker room, he was happy to find nobody else around. It was hard enough dealing with Sara; he didn't have the heart or the patience to deal with anyone else.

His heart told him he believed what he said to Sara was true. Nick did have the right to be a little bit selfish. He had been through so much not only with the kidnapping but also just in the events of the last couple of years. How much could one man take before he completely crumbled? That wasn't something the tall man could abide. His mind told him other things. Ultimately, the decision was made the moment he found out Nick had left. Everything in him told him that Nick needed to be found. Warrick knew in his mind it needed to be him that found the 'lost' CSI.

Pulling out his cell phone, Warrick hit the speed dial button and was quickly connected to a friend from college. The two of them had gone way back. Charles Lee had been a close friend back in the day. Time and careers had conspired against the two of them in the last five or six years. Lately, though, he was the eyes and ears for him if he was going to find his brother.

Charles had gone on to college and ended up working as manager for Sprint/Nextel. Since the lab was all on that network for their cell phones, it only made sense to call in a favor from an old buddy. Unfortunately, the news had been the same since the day Nick was last seen. No outbound calls had been made. No voice mails had been checked and it didn't even appear that his phone had been turned on since the satellite system couldn't even track him through the GPS system within Nick's cell phone.

Between the cell provider and the Onstar system on Nick's SUV, which had somehow been disabled, Nick had effectively vanished without a trace.

What made it worse was the new attitude their supervisor was sporting. The first few days after Nick had somehow just walked away from his life, the entire team worked feverishly to locate their lost sheep. With all their leads fizzling and basically coming up dead-ends. The team realized they had to re-focus on the cases they were being paid to investigate. Most of the teammates and co-workers kept up the search. They just did it on their own time and pace.

Lately, though Grissom seemed to take on a new demeanor. One that Warrick was not too fond of. Forget the fact that the man's moods had shifted from calm and placid to just basically foul and unapproachable. Grissom seemed determined to just be cantankerous the whole shift.

It was hard enough to be one man short but the sour disposition was fast becoming impossible to deal with. Lab techs moved in the opposite direction when they saw the older man coming their way. Even Catherine was shut down when she tried to approach her old friend. Effectively dismissed and told to leave him alone. This didn't set well with the senior investigator but she took it in stride and closed herself up in her own office.

What seemed even more amazing was that it appeared like the supervisor was irritated at the inconvenience of Nick Stokes departure. Not just upset. But, completely put out by it. This was making for a tough work environment. Something needed to be done and it needed to be done soon, or this team would implode on itself.

Gil Grissom shut the door to his office and quickly locked the door before he made his way back to his desk. A headache was threatening behind his eyes and this one was going to be a bad one. He needed to finish up a few things before he left for home to nurse what was the beginning of one bad migraine.

Picking up the battered business card from his desk, the supervisor studied the words and put the card back on the desk. Running his fingers over the embossment of the worn paper he closed his eyes and picked up his phone. Dialing his phone he waited as the line picked up. "Hey Jack, it's Gil. What do you have for me?"


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Well, this took a little bit longer than I actually anticipated. Sadly the chapters are just sitting innocently enough, here on my harddrive, but I just wasn't too sure about it...Then, I said screw it...whatever...I'm not writing my memoirs, here. It's fanfiction. So, it's time to just dive in. Anyway, I will try to be a little better about it. Sorry for the delay.

It wasn't everyday you decided to become a new man. To shed the skin of a life spent pleasing everyone.Putting yourself second, sometimes even third or fourth and always trying to see something good in an almost impossible situation. These were seen by many as character flaws. Weaknesses to be exploited. Yet they were as much a part of his genetic makeup as they were something that made up the very essence of his existence.

He knew he could never stray far from the values and personality trait's he had so masterfully cultivated in his lifetime. Nick knew he needed to re-exam and possibly re-invent himself. This was his call to action and he was ready to step forward with a new phase to his life.

The unknown would no longer intimidate him. He would boldly and without hesitation approach his life and not worry about what others thought of him. There were no shadows or expectations he would need to live up to. It sounded selfish, momentarily, but he realized as of this minute, right here right now. Nick Stokes did not need to prove himself to anyone. He had unshackled himself from the bonds he had found himself so tightly bound for so long.

**HOME HOME HOME HOME HOME HOME HOME HOME HOME HOME**

Sara had had enough. She had faced hardships and bad times in her life. Most of her past a mystery even to the friends she allowed into her private little world. There were not many in that exclusive club. Over the years she had built a protective wall around her self. A safe haven to keep the darkness of humanity out to stay safe from the world.

Weakness was not something she could afford to show. That meant vulnerability in all its big and smallest forms. Most importantly, at least in her eyes, never let them see you cry. Even with the worst that society showed to her. Tears were a sign of frailty. A handicap she could ill afford to demonstrate.

The events of the past weeks had challenged her resolve and lately the effort to keep these hated emotions in check was becoming more demanding and harder to fight off.

These had truly been the hardest days she could ever remember living through. That fact spoke volumes of the emotions she now felt she wore on her sleeve.

Yet she clung to the belief, that even in these desperate times, she had to keep her emotions concealed and remain safely secluded behind her protective wall.

The hateful words Warrick had bitterly spoken to her had stung the young woman. Even more, they had cut her deeper and with more vengeance than even she was willing to admit. Though, she knew that these were just thoughtless words spit out in a heated and uncensored moment. It, nonetheless, didn't take away the intense sting.

Walking into the sudden coldness of the women's restroom. Sara quickly scanned underneath the stall doors of the small bathroom. With sweet relief she ducked into the handicap stall, locked it calmly and slid down the wall. As her body fell to a boneless heap on the floor the tears that had been safely hidden in the damn of her deep brown eyes opened up and all the young woman could do was give in to the emotion she worked so hard to hide.

**HOME HOME HOME HOME HOME HOME HOME HOME HOME HOME**

Catherine slammed the office door and clutched both of her fists tightly. The knots in her stomach were straining. Without another word, she melted into her chair and picked up her glasses off her desk. Picking up an opened and forgotten file she stared at the words on the pages. The words could have been in Arabic for all she knew. Throwing the file back down she slowly took off her reading glasses and folded them carefully. Studying the dark plastic of the rims she clutched the frames tighter and tighter.

For all the good it did us to find him. This time her dark haired Texan had disappeared. Only the wound it left behind was far more painful than seeing him even on the monitor when he was kidnapped. That situation seemed hopeless and the outcome so bleak. Yet, there was always a part of the woman that knew they would get Nick back. They would get him back safely and never let him out of their sights again.

Nick's vanishing act was far worse for she knew that this was the act of a desperate man who had finally had the proverbial straw hit his back. This time he might be gone for good. Even knowing that he was probably doing OK on his own didn't help stem the intensely raw yet tender feeling she had for this man she had worked side by side with and developed such a fondness for.

Had he finally reached the end of his rope? Staring back down at her glasses she clutched even tighter as her eyes stole across a picture on her desk of happier times. The whole graveyard team was together, a family united and bonded together. Looking at the picture a little closer it was if they all had no cares in the world. But that's the thing about pictures…sometimes they only tell bits and pieces of a story. Studying the picture once more she saw that little twinkle in Nick's eyes. The one he got when he was going to be up to no good. The look she would have paid a thousand ransoms to see again.

Without warning Catherine crunched the offensive glasses in her hand. Enjoying the crack of the strained plastic, she couldn't help feel just a little bit better when she, without hesitation, threw the glasses at a nearby bookcase. It solved absolutely nothing but for a moment it released a month and a half worth of tension.

Swiping the picture off her desk she studied the smiles and laughter of her teammates. She could almost hear Warrick kidding around with Nick as they posed for the picture. Certainly she saw Grissom's eye's role as Nick cracked a joke at Warrick's expense.

A sad smile played across Catherine's face as she leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. Moving the picture across her chest she said a small prayer that someone was watching over her Nicky.

**HOME HOME HOME HOME HOME HOME HOME HOME HOME HOME**

Nick sat in the parking lot lost in the continued air traffic steadily increasing as the day wore on. Resting his head back against the headrest he closed his eyes and let the soft rumblings of the various Piper's and Cessna's in transient parking relax him even further. That is, before the rumblings of his own stomach nudged him out of his aviation trance. He hadn't realized just how hungry he had become.

Luckily, there was a restaurant on the second floor of the very small airport terminal building he was parked in. Finding his way upstairs, he chuckled at the little Mexican restaurant that happily greeted him. Casa Machado Mexican Bar and Grill had probably never been remodeled or renovated in all its time in operation. The dilapidated booths were a tacky orange vinyl. The faded dingy olive green tabletops showed the many years of uninterrupted use. Dusty model planes were proudly displayed overhead as a salute to modern aviation.

Looking up on a shelf there was a manger scene that was still sitting out in the middle of July. As Nick looked closer he noticed the very dusty baby Jesus was laying in a cradle made of aluminum foil. Laughing to himself he opened the weathered menu when the young waitress in a brightly colored skirt snuck up on him and took his order.

While he waited, he got an even better look of the runways, air traffic tower, fuel islands and busy hangars of this impressive general aviation airport. It was amazing really. Like a small city confined to one seemingly postage stamp place. Two busy runways were in use as planes taxied and took off for places unknown. Or simply stayed in the pattern of the airspace and did touch and go's.

Within a few minutes his waitress returned with his food. Picking up his fork like a man who hadn't seen food in week he ravenously dug into the food.

Though the restaurant had been pretty quiet the lunch hour was drawing a bigger crowd as people from local businesses, aviation enthusiasts and regulars from the airport converged for a quick bite to eat or just to catch up on the airport gossip. The busy restaurant soon buzzed with activity. Old pilots and student pilots each swapping "big fish tales" as they too watched the hum of the airfield.

As Nick was finishing up his lunch a short stocky man stopped by his table and with a thick Greek accent asked if he could sit. Nick obliged and the man took a seat noisily as he looked around the packed cantina.

"Don't think I've seen you in here before. My name is Constantine Aleksakis but everyone calls me Gus." Studying the young man in front of him, Gus picked up Nick's ice water and smiled as he watched the ice cubes dance around the glass. After a moment he stared back at his new friend, "What is your name?"

Without missing a beat the Texan stared back at the curious man and smiled. "My name is Matt, Matt Peterson."

Gus thoughtfully stared at the dark haired man. Picking up the menu, without really looking at it, he put it back down and looked out the window. A few minutes past and the waitress asked the familiar Greek man if he would be ordering the "usual". With a sly grin, Gus nodded and handed back the menu to the young girl.

The silence enveloped the small table as Nick pushed away his plate and slowly wiped his mouth. The painful silence was finally broken as Gus once again studied his newest friend. Reminding Nick of how Grissom would study and analyze his bug friends. Rubbing at the slight whiskers on his chin. Gus looked deeply at the man across the table "What is your real name?"

Feeling trapped but trying hard not to look like he had been caught. Nick looked away quickly for his waitress. Looking back he still saw the older man continue to stare.

"My name's Matt."

"I know that is who you say you are…but who are you really?

Nick managed to fumble a half smile as he looked back into the inquiring eyes of the man.

Chuckling slightly, Nick shook his hand and finally answered. "My name is Nick."


End file.
